My life is a busy one, probably more so than most. I live on my own, I pay my bills on-time (usually), and I consider myself fully capable and independent. I'm single, and I'm quite okay with that-- usually. But this past week I found myself curled up in a ball on my bed, shivering, coughing, sore, and lonely. And for the first time in forever, I truly wished that I wasn't single.
What is it about a simple cold that can turn me into a co-dependent wuss? I am at a loss. Why does being sick make me wish I had a significant other? I really cannot tell you.
I guess I've come to find that despite my semi-feminist beliefs, my self-assuredness, my independence, and my invincibility, I still want to be taken care of; particularly when I'm sick. I'd love nothing more than to have someone around to drive me to the pharmacy, to rub my back when I cant sleep, and to supply me with endless amounts of 7up. Someone who would kiss my forehead with genuine concern and make everything better. Someone who would cuddle up next to me even if it meant that they might get sick.
If you're lucky enough, you have a great mom who did all of that for you when you were growing up. And if you're lucky enough, when you do grow up, you'll find the kind of person who will fill that role again-- not because you're needy, but just because it's one of the most genuine ways you can be cared for.
So I guess I'm in the inbetween-- a place of familiarity throughout one's 20s. But I think I'll be okay for now, and perhaps someday when I do grow up, I'll be lucky enough.
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